


More Than Expected

by wyvern



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Something that could be construed as dub-con (but isn't), Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 21:58:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvern/pseuds/wyvern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Arthur needs to be a bit provoked to treat Merlin the way he wants to be treated. But this time, Merlin might get slightly more than he bargained for...</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Expected

**Author's Note:**

> For this fic, I've had two lovely betas: [Ana](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aisjustrunning) and [Carrie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/catlechat/pseuds/catlechat) Thank you, ladies, for making this fic considerably better and more coherent than it originally was. Any remaining errors, however, are completely my own. 
> 
> 'Merlin' belongs to Shine and BBC and history, and I most certainly don't make any money from this (if I could live off my writing, I would, believe me). 
> 
> Somewhere in my mind, there are some very mixed-up feelings of both pride and shame for writing this (for me) long PWP. Let me know what you guys think, okay?

 

\--------------------

 

Merlin’s a tease, a liar, and a bit of a man-whore. Except, he isn’t –- not really, because he’s very much devoted to Arthur, but sometimes he needs to... _provoke_ him to get the sought-after reaction.

Like tonight, where he’s the ‘plus one’ on one of Arthur’s boring charity events. Seriously, how often must you schmooze rich people to get them to give their money to charity? But it _is_ for a good cause, so even if Merlin’s bored out of his skull most of these evenings, he accepts it.

He accepts it, _and_ uses it to his advantage.

The thing is that although Merlin is Arthur’s ‘plus one’, he often spends the evenings by himself, as Arthur has to mingle and talk to anyone and everyone about nothing and even more nothing. He is the front figure of the charity, after all. Merlin usually puts up with the stuffy conversations about things only rich people care about for a couple of hours, but eventually always ends up on his own. Like now.

He sits at the bar, surveying the room, trying to spot Arthur among all the black suits. It’s not very hard, as the tall, blonde, gorgeous man stands out in the crowd of mostly middle-aged, grey-haired men with their slightly less middle-aged companions in colourful dresses on their arms. Merlin enjoys the sight of Arthur working his magic. He is good at this -– raising money for charity, talking to people he doesn’t really like.

Merlin smiles to himself, because he can feel the look from someone at the end of the bar. It’s a young man, probably close to Merlin’s own age. He has dark hair and startling grey eyes and Merlin can actually feel how his gaze burns at this side of his neck. The guy seems to have decided to give Merlin a go, because he resolutely downs the rest of his drink and walks up to him.

“Well, don’t you look lonely?” he says.

Merlin slowly turns his body towards him, and smiles coyly. “Well, maybe I am,” he answers. The man laughs quietly and reaches his hand out for Merlin to shake.

“I’m Mordred. I’m with the law firm that represents the charity.”

“Merlin.”

The man -– Mordred -– offers, “Can I buy you a drink? You seem bored enough to need one.”

It’s Merlin’s turn to laugh this time, but it’s a soft laugh, a slightly seductive one. “Yes,” he says, “I’m pretty bored, but I’m sure you’ll make a very nice distraction from all this arse licking.” He looks away and makes a sweeping gesture with his hand, indicating the whole room, and then turns back to Mordred. The young man’s cheeks are slightly flushed and he looks a bit startled at the obvious insinuation of Merlin’s words. Merlin smiles wickedly, and continues, “I’ll have a gin and tonic, please.”

 

\-------------------- 

 

It takes longer than usual for Arthur to notice Merlin’s shenanigans this time. Merlin laughs and flirts with Mordred for a good half hour before he spots the jealousy on Arthur’s face –- and he can see it from a mile away. Mordred has hinted that perhaps –- maybe -– Merlin wants to accompany him to the unmanned cloak room down the hall? But Merlin had just stroked his arm and chuckled at the suggestion. It isn’t like Mordred is in any way unattractive or cursed with a bad personality, because he isn’t. It’s just that what is about to happen is the reason why Merlin still agrees to attend these stupid charity events. He trembles slightly at the thought and loses all interest in poor Mordred.

Arthur shakes hands with an older couple, smiles tightly and makes his way towards the bar -– towards Merlin. His eyes aren’t kind anymore, the usual light, glittering blue has darkened to a cerulean and although he smiles broadly at a woman who interrupts him on his way over, Merlin can tell he is struggling to keep his temper under control. He is so jealous...

Unconsciously, Merlin wets his lips when Arthur reaches the bar and places a proprietary hand on Merlin’s neck. It’s not unpleasant, but the amount of pressure Arthur applies tells Merlin exactly how he feels, and Merlin’s eyes flutter close for a second. _The jealousy is strong with this one tonight..._ Merlin thinks, and his breath catches in his chest when he thinks of what that’ll entail.

“Merlin, why don’t you introduce me to your friend?”

Arthur’s voice is pleasant, but when Merlin looks up at him, he can see the mixed emotion behind his eyes. It’s possessiveness, it’s a bit of anger, it’s everything that makes Merlin tick. Merlin shudders, but his insides are hot with desire.

Mordred catches on to the strange tension that Arthur brings with him, and stammers, “Uh, I’m Mordred, I’m a junior partner at the law firm who represents this charity. I’m sorry, but who are you?”

“I’m Arthur Pendragon, the _founder_ of this charity. Nice to meet you. It seems like you and my boyfriend are getting along great this evening.” The smile he gives Mordred is tight-lipped, but at least not openly hostile.

“Uh... I’m sorry, Mr Pendragon.” Mordred’s eyes dart anxiously between Merlin’s and Arthur’s faces, and notices how Arthur’s hand tightens slightly on Merlin’s neck and how Merlin bows his head in defiant submission. “He didn’t–- he didn’t say.”

“I’m sure he didn’t, but I’m telling you now. Maybe you should finish your drink elsewhere?”

Mordred gives Merlin one last glance, and then scarpers.

Merlin loves jealous and possessive Arthur. He kind of _craves_ jealous and possessive Arthur, because that’s the only time that Arthur really doesn’t respect Merlin properly. He is such a gentleman all the time, and sometimes it drives Merlin mad. Sometimes he just needs to feel the power of Arthur looming over him, sometimes he just likes being manhandled... just a little.

 _This_ is the reason why Merlin strings innocent people along for an hour or two -– this is the reason why he pushes and pushes and _pushes_ at Arthur. He needs Arthur’s exceptionally collected façade to break once in a while –- he needs to see the _feelings_ , the _instinct_ , that Arthur hides so well.

Arthur growls at Merlin, leans down, and whispers, “Again, Merlin? What have I said about that?”

The intensity of the quiet words makes a soft sound escape Merlin’s lips. Arthur removes his hand from his neck, and says, “Come, we’re leaving.”

“Now?” Merlin croaks.

“Yes. I’m sure Morgana can wrap this party up, she’s done it before.”

Arthur looks down on Merlin, and their eyes meet. A smirk threatens at the corner of Merlin’s mouth and when Arthur glances to that exact spot, Merlin knows he’s fucked. Not that he wasn’t already, of course. He’s ready for Arthur to work him over, take out his jealousy and insecurities on him. Do with him what he will. Force Merlin to make up for the disobedience to him in every way possible...

Merlin groans softly at the thought and Arthur gives him a hard look before quietly stating, “Shut up, Merlin. You knew what you were doing.”

And Merlin does know, because _this is what he wants._ They both know that Merlin knows, and they both know that the person with the power really isn’t Arthur. In this game, it’s never Arthur, even if they both like to pretend.

 

\--------------------

 

Back at the flat, Arthur barely has closed the door behind them when Merlin drops to his knees and starts to unzip Arthur’s dress trousers. It’s how it usually works: start him off with this and let him fuck Merlin later. Not this time, apparently, because Arthur grabs Merlin’s hair and holds him off before Merlin’s even gotten his cock out. The hold is tight and the pain makes Merlin gasp.

“No, we’re doing it differently this time. You need to learn, Merlin.”

“Wha–-,” Merlin begins, but the sentence breaks into unspeakable pieces in his mouth when Arthur grabs his arm and drags him to his feet enough to manhandle him into the sitting room. Arthur pushes him face first over the back of their leather sofa, his arse in the air. Merlin swallows hard as he loses his footing and scrambles to find it again. After a few seconds, he does, but Arthur has a firm hand on his back and Merlin is locked in an awkward position with his arse available to Arthur’s every whim.

“Merlin, Merlin, Merlin...” Arthur whispers as he leans forward, gently stroking Merlin’s hair and neck with his other hand. “So, _so_ gorgeous, and _so_ incredibly stupid.”

Merlin shudders as the words sink in. This is going to get rough. “Look who’s talking,” he gasps as an answer. Anything to provoke. Arthur is so much fun, so hot, so unbearably _amazing_ when he loses control.

Arthur snorts, but his voice is harsh. “Shut up, _Mer_ lin, you _idiot_. You were the one who tried to pick up some young guy who would have...” He breaks off, and Merlin can actually hear him swallow. “Just do as I say. Make it up to me.”

When Merlin doesn’t answer right away, Arthur pinches his right hip, hard, and Merlin jerks involuntarily. There’ll be bruises tomorrow, but that’s okay. He loves the bruises Arthur inflicts on his skin. They’re dark reminders just how much Arthur wants him and loves him. It’s strange how much Merlin is able to accept as long as it’s Arthur who does it.

“Yeah,” Merlin breathes, “yeah, I’ll make it up to you, just tell me what to do. Arthur. Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

Arthur practically _purrs_ and Merlin can hear the content smile on his lips when he answers. “Yeah, you will.”

When Arthur’s hand moves to unzip Merlin’s trousers, it rubs against his cock since there’s not enough space between Merlin’s groin and the sofa. Merlin exhales a string of breathless, “Please, please, please”, because he’s getting harder every passing minute, but Arthur doesn’t do anything but unzip the trousers and hitch them and Merlin’s pants down to his ankles.

“Take them off.”

Merlin obediently steps out of the clothes and Arthur kicks them away with his foot. Merlin’s dress shirt and jacket still cover his upper body, though, and he’s getting warm. He feels how a drop of sweat trickles down his neck in anticipation of Arthur’s next move.

But the next move never comes. Arthur’s hands just rest lightly on Merlin’s hips and he hasn’t properly moved back into Merlin’s space after pulling down his trousers.

“A-arthur?” Merlin stammers and tries to turn around to see what Arthur’s doing.

“ _No_.”

Merlin immediately stops dead, because he recognises that tone. He rarely hears it used against himself, though, and he _never_ hears it in a situation like this. It’s Arthur’s _you better be dead or else I’ll fire your arse_ work tone, and it scares the hell out of Merlin. It scares the hell out of everyone and no one has ever stood up against that voice. Well, except maybe Morgana, but she’s a force of nature in her own right.

Two sweat drops runs down Merlin’s neck, and he’s shivering now. Uncertain if it’s fear or exhilaration, he tries to turn again. “Arthur...”

“I said ‘no’. I don’t care if your back aches. I don’t care if you’re cold –- or too warm. I certainly don’t care if you suddenly feel shy, although I don’t think that’s very likely since you practically offered yourself naked on a serving plate to that... youngster back at the party.” Merlin hears the hesitation in Arthur’s voice as he refrains from calling Mordred something decidedly ruder than the word he went with. “Stay like this with your arse in the air until I tell you otherwise, _Mer_ lin.”

And Arthur lets go of Merlin’s hips and steps away. Merlin doesn’t dare move, just shifts his hands slightly to brace himself more steadily. The position he’s in isn’t very comfortable -– especially not with an aching erection that presses against the leather of the sofa.

He waits. They both wait. Merlin’s not sure of what they’re waiting for, but he knows that Arthur’s watching him -– he can feel his eyes on him. Merlin likes it when Arthur’s watching him. He feels desired when he’s watched. Loved. It doesn’t matter if Arthur is watching him with worry or with unbridled desire. It’s the attention he gives, like he can’t help but give a hundred per cent no matter what it’s about. And how can Merlin not love someone who gives more of himself than he’s even aware of?

Carefully, Merlin reaches up to try to loosen his tie a bit. It’s a bit tight around his neck and his collar is getting damp from sweat. Immediately, Arthur’s hand is back, this time it’s splayed out between his shoulder blades, pressing him further down into the sofa.

“No.”

Merlin breathes harshly at the rough touch. It’s getting stuffy in the room and keeping his head down is making him ever so slightly dizzy. He really doesn’t want to wait any longer. _Come on_ , he thinks a bit desperately. _Just fuck me._

“Arthur...” he says on an exhale. The word hardly carries, but Arthur signals that he’s heard it by applying more pressure on Merlin’s back before he lets go and steps away again.

“Don’t talk. Don’t turn around. Stay where you are,” Arthur says. His voice is calm, but there’s a tremble on the ‘are’, and Merlin knows that he likes this, that this excites him. He loves this _almost_ as much as Merlin does. “And _don’t_ touch yourself, Merlin. I will know, and I’ll punish you if you have,” Arthur adds, almost like an afterthought.

The clacking sound of Arthur’s dress shoes against the oak floor grows weaker when he exits the room. Merlin disobeys the rules he just been told and sneaks a glance over his shoulder and loosens the tie just a smudge. How will Arthur be able to tell, anyway?

The anticipation of what Arthur is up to keeps Merlin hard the long and tenuous minutes that Arthur is out of the room. How is this going to play out? Maybe he’s just collecting the lube. But that wouldn’t take this long... Maybe he’ll fuck him bent over the sofa like this? Merlin would like that. _I’d like_ everything _right now_ , Merlin thinks a bit desperately. He shifts his hips a bit and the friction on his cock from the sofa makes him moan softly.

That is, of course, when Arthur re-enters the room.

“Merlin. What do you think you’re doing?” he says, his voice deceptively even.

Merlin shoots a quick glance over his shoulder again and spots Arthur standing a short distance away, holding something in his left hand. It’s impossible to quite make out what it is, but it isn’t lube. Or, it’s not _only_ lube, anyway. It’s too big. Merlin’s mouth goes dry and he turns his head down at the sofa again.

“I’m sorry,” he says and keeps all cheek out of his voice. This isn’t the time to play.

Arthur laughs softly. “No, you’re not. You’re turned on and are trying to provoke me to fuck you, Merlin, because that’s what you want.”

He’s right, of course. It’s what Merlin wants, and he’s starting to really crave it now. It’s been a good while since they got home and he’s barely been touched at all, and certainly not where he _wants_ to be touched. He bites into his lower lip and swallows before answering.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s what I want, so why don’t you just...”

He shuts up when Arthur suddenly is right behind him again, pressing himself, his hard cock, against Merlin’s bare arse. As much as his back and legs and arms hurt from keeping the same position for so long, he can’t help but groan and try to shift his body to gain more friction. Arthur won’t allow him, though. He leans himself over Merlin’s back, places his arms around the other man’s chest and breathes warmly into his ear. The shivers that unintentionally run through Merlin’s body make Arthur tremble with suppressed laughter.

“I’ll have my revenge for your disobedience, Merlin. You’ll see,” he whispers and slowly licks the shell of Merlin’s ear before pulling back again. Merlin’s arms shiver and he is starting to have trouble keeping himself up. He isn’t weak by any account, but maybe he isn’t strong enough to put a large part of his body weight on his arms for a prolonged period of time like this.

That is when Arthur finally, _finally_ touches Merlin’s arse by running his coarse hands over the curve of the cheeks and Merlin forgets all about how tired his muscles are. Arthur pinches Merlin’s skin slightly and Merlin squirms, but it’s okay because that means friction and friction is _good_. Merlin can’t really help how he makes a keening sort of noise deep in his throat, but it quickly changes into more of a growling when Arthur runs a couple of fingers between his cheeks and gently strokes over his entrance for a second before pulling away.

Merlin hears the plastic pop when Arthur opens the lube and he trembles with anticipation. Arthur has stopped being gentle when his hands return to Merlin’s body, because he works one finger into his arse without much preamble. Though the action isn’t particularly fast and not at all violent, it is determined and Merlin tries to push back to force Arthur to open him up faster. _This is a good punishment_ , he thinks. _So, so good._

Arthur takes his time after the first finger. He adds another, and it soon becomes more a torturous thing for Merlin than enjoyment. He’s certainly not coming any closer to the release he wants.

“Fu-uck, Arthur!” Merlin breathes when Arthur starts curling his fingers before pulling them out. He does the same thing over and over again. Merlin’s sweating profusely now and he can’t really keep in the harsh breaths that try to escape his mouth every time Arthur does that _thing_ with his fingers.

“Arthur, Arthur, I want to touch you, _Arthur_ ,” he pants and tries to reach back to touch Arthur with one hand. Anywhere, somehow.

Arthur slowly pulls his fingers out and sighs. “You will get to touch me later, Merlin,” he says, an impatient tone detectable in his voice. “Believe me. I don’t plan to miss out on all the fun. But don’t touch me yet. Put your hand down.”

And Merlin obeys, for once. He shuts his eyes and a very unattractive whining noise escapes him although he didn’t mean to let it. It makes Arthur laugh. It’s low, but open. It’s not angry or tight or suppressed, like the smile back at the party. It’s a very ‘Arthur’ laugh, and Merlin loves that. It makes him relax just a little.

When the room is yet again quiet, Arthur caresses Merlin’s bum cheeks lazily and sighs again before he starts to speak. Merlin strains to listen, because the voice is soft and slightly muffled as Arthur bends down to press kisses to his bare skin as he talks. The soft touches makes Merlin relax even more and he closes his eyes again as he enjoys the closeness. He hardly even notices how Arthur’s hands don’t touch him anymore, that the only physical contact they share is Arthur’s kisses against his arse.

“So,” Arthur says between kisses, “before we met... I had this _thing_...”

Merlin nods and hums, because it sounds like Arthur wants some sort of encouragement to go on.

“And I used it, and liked it, although I haven’t really used it since you came into my life...”

Pause. A few more kisses. Merlin’s feeling pretty good about the whole situation when he hears the lube cap being opened again. He doesn’t question it, he just concentrates on the kisses and hopes that Arthur is slicking himself up as he talks, because that’s the only thing that can make this even better.

Arthur continues, “...because I didn’t need it when you were here. You are so gorgeous, Merlin.” A kiss. “You’re everything I want.” Another kiss. “So why do you do that _thing_? You’ve got me already, so why do you keep showing me that _I_ don’t have _you_?”

Merlin doesn’t answer, just hums again. He hardly listens anymore, thinking that _yes, keep kissing, keep going, just_ fuck _me already_.

“But I think that tonight...” Arthur breathes out and places a last kiss on Merlin’s right arse cheek, “... I’ll enjoy it...” A kiss on the left arse cheek. “... as much as I think _you’ll_ enjoy it.”

His left hand grabs Merlin’s hip then, and Merlin can feel a pressure against his hole. It’s not Arthur, it’s smaller, but when it’s slowly pressed inside, it gets wider and as the sharp, delicious burn hits him, Merlin realises that it’s a plug. It isn’t what he wants most of all, because what he wants most of all is Arthur’s cock pounding some obedience into him, but this will do, this will most certainly do right now. He curls his fingers unconsciously, lets his nails dig into the leather of the sofa. It isn’t until Arthur’s hand lets go of his hip that he notices that he has been holding his breath.

“Hnng,” he breathes as he feels the plug sliding in even further. It’s nice, it’s so nice. Soon enough, it’s seated fully, and Arthur strokes the skin around it to try and ease some of the tension that’s built up there. Merlin feels the subtle coolness of Arthur’s fingers, but he can’t concentrate on anything but the plug.

When Arthur takes a firm grip on his sweat-soaked shirt collar and drags him into a proper standing position, the plug shifts and a new wave of sweat breaks out on Merlin’s back and forehead. His cock is hard and leaking precome, and Merlin struggles with the decision to take himself in hand and finish himself off right here and now, or to wait and let Arthur decide how this evening is going to play out.

Carefully and deliberately, Arthur manoeuvres him so that they’re facing each other, and then takes a minute to just watch him. Merlin’s aware of the dark eyes, of the dilated pupils and the slight curve of Arthur’s mouth, but he’s too preoccupied with the unfamiliar feeling inside of him to say something cheeky or cute, like he normally would. His breathing comes in heavy puffs and for a second he closes his eyes and tries to ignore how Arthur uses that exact moment to press a soft kiss to Merlin’s lips. It’s impossible to ignore him, of course. Arthur’s kisses are addictive and Merlin would lose himself in them for hours if only Arthur would let him.

Although he doesn’t intend for it to do so, Merlin’s tongue makes a desperate attempt to catch the vague taste of red wine that is still lingering on Arthur’s lips. When he can’t capture it, Merlin makes a small undignified noise deep in his throat which then turns into a satisfied hum as Arthur tugs lightly on his lower lip with his teeth and then gives him a deep kiss.

As they continue kissing, Arthur’s kisses grow more and more proprietary. His hands stroke Merlin’s back and the heat of them is clear even through the fabric of Merlin’s jacket and shirt. Every time Arthur nudges at Merlin’s body to move slightly to one side or the other, Merlin feels the sensation of being filled up and he groans quietly. Far too soon for Merlin’s liking, Arthur pulls away and takes a step back. Merlin opens his eyes, but keeps them averted from Arthur’s face.

“I’m not sure if this really is a punishment or if it’s a reward, Merlin,” Arthur says, his voice dark and raspy. “Or for whom.”

Merlin can see what he means. It’s obvious that Arthur likes this, judging by the state of his cock. He is still wearing his dress trousers, but there’s a limit to what they can hide.

“Now, strip,” Arthur says, his voice assertive once again. Merlin does. He shrugs out of the jacket and his fingers work slowly to unbutton his dress shirt. He fumbles and tries to remove it before the tie, which doesn’t really work. The whole process takes longer than it should. Arthur doesn’t say anything about it, though, just watches with eager eyes.

It takes a couple of minutes, but eventually, Merlin is naked. He’s feeling slightly uncomfortable, for once, but he’s not completely sure why. Perhaps it is because he no longer has any idea what is going to happen –- this isn’t how it usually works. Arthur doesn’t _do_ anything. He just stands there, fully clothed, and watches.

“Aren’t you...?” Merlin asks and makes a vague gesture to his own body. The tone of his voice is supposed to be seductive, which he doesn’t quite pull off, but it’s a good try for having an extreme hard on and being filled up like this. Since he’s standing still, the plug doesn’t stimulate anything in particular at the moment, though, and Merlin’s regaining some of his usual cheekiness as the sweat on his neck and back cools.

Arthur looks up from where he was focusing his gaze. “Hm?” he says.

Merlin rolls his eyes and makes to take a step towards him. He doesn’t get far before he halts, because _fuck_! This is getting unbearable. “Arthur, _please_...”

Now with a small smile on his lips, Arthur answers. “Oh, I’m not done yet. Come.”

He reaches out and takes Merlin’s wrist, urges him to follow when he walks out of the room. Merlin does with a very stilted walk, but when they reach the stairs, he halts.

“No. No, I can’t, Arthur, you don’t understand, this’ll...”

Arthur’s eyes turn cold, then. “Yes, you will, Merlin.” And with that, he tightens his grip on Merlin’s wrist and drags him up the stairs.

Merlin has no idea how he manages it, because it makes the butt plug work in a way he’s sure it was not intended to. Or, oh yeah, maybe it was, but he’s at least pretty sure it’s considered a rather tortuous way to use it on someone. Which it _is_ , just for the record.

When they reach the top of the stairs, Merlin’s practically gasping for air and stumbles a little. It doesn’t help the stimulation in his arse at all. Slightly desperate, he starts to beg.

“Arthur. Arthur, please, _Arthur_... Just fuck me, Arthur. _Please_ ,” he says, his voice strangely weak. His body is tense and weak at the same time: he can feel how the muscles in his lower back are cramping. “Arthur...”

Arthur doesn’t stop until they’ve reached the bedroom, however, and proceeds to push Merlin down onto his back on the bed. Finally, Merlin thinks, _he won’t be able to hold back any longer now, he’ll fuck me for sure_. He’s started sweating again, thinking about it, thinking about Arthur’s cock in him and his beautiful face scrunched up in concentration as he pounds into him.

But this is not it, clearly. Arthur has crawled into bed, too, but he’s not touching Merlin at all. He’s sitting on his knees between Merlin’s spread legs, leaning forward onto his arms which are placed on either side of Merlin’s head. He’s just looking. Again. The uncertainty of it drives Merlin mad.

“Can’t you just stop... looking! Just _do_ something, already!” Merlin exclaims, frustrated. He grabs Arthur’s shoulders and try to draw him in for a kiss, but Arthur holds steady against Merlin’s fingers.

The outburst makes Arthur laugh, and it’s a beautiful sound. It makes him even more gorgeous, Merlin thinks. Arthur soon stills, though, and smiles down on Merlin, who, like a loon, finds himself smiling right back. What he doesn’t expect is Arthur’s left hand to ghost its way up his side right then, barely touching the skin stretching over his rib cage. The full body shiver makes Merlin groan as the plug once again stimulates his prostate.

“Fu- _uuuck_ ,” he grinds out and squeezes his eyes shut. Without meaning to, he releases his grip on Arthur’s shoulders and lets his arms flop onto the bed above his head. He arches his back to get closer to Arthur, wants to feel his body tight against his own, fighting against the combined pleasure and torture that the plug brings him. His cock aches to be touched, wants to feel any kind of friction, but he knows that it’s not an option to wrap his own palm around it and find relief. That would most certainly not go down well with Arthur.

He opens his eyes and finds Arthur looking at him with a sort of self-satisfied smile on his lips. Merlin groans again. He’s never ever going to live this down.

“You...” he starts when Arthur interrupts him.

“Stay like this. Don’t move.”

Merlin obeys. “This is torture, Arthur,” he whines as Arthur bends down and licks his collarbone.

“Is not,” Arthur replies and straightens up again. “You like it. If you didn’t, you’d just tell me to stop, but you won’t, Merlin. You never do.”

And then he bends down again, alternating between placing soft kisses and actually biting down into the pale skin on Merlin’s neck and torso. The bite marks sting slightly, but Arthur soothes them with his tongue afterwards. Merlin whimpers at the treatment, thinking _this is not going according to plan, this is never going to end_. But does he want it to? It’s torture and love, love and torture at the same time and Merlin is starting to struggle with the boundaries between the two.

He lets Arthur kiss/bite/lick his way down his upper body -– the only thing betraying his pleasure is the small gasps that escapes his mouth. Sure that Arthur still won’t touch his cock, that his lover is still in the punishing mood, the shock he experiences is considerable when Arthur wraps his hand around it and starts licking his very wet, very slow way up along it. The next thing that happens is that Arthur, with his other hand, slowly starts to work the plug out while still licking Merlin’s cock. Writhing and whimpering, Merlin is not far away from coming, not far away at all. Being the right bastard that he is, Arthur pumps the plug into Merlin’s arse a couple of times more before removing it completely.

Merlin’s so close to coming that tears are streaming down his face and he tosses his head from one side to another, unable to express anything but incoherent babbling and muddled sounds. He fights the urge to lower his hands and grab Arthur’s soft hair and _force_ him to take Merlin’s cock into his mouth. It’s difficult, but he manages to keep his hands away by grabbing the bed cover and holding on for dear life.

Noticing how close Merlin is, Arthur does something Merlin’s not sure he’ll ever forgive. He pulls away with a final lick of Merlin’s head, leaving him empty and without stimulation. Breathing hard, still with tears on his face, Merlin looks down at him, lets him see how desperate and naked –- in every sense of the word -– he is. The other man just looks back with a small, slightly wicked smile on his lips.

At first, Merlin doesn’t say anything, just tilts his head back down into the mattress and lies absolutely still as he concentrates on his breathing. He feels how his muscles ache and how violently his cock throbs and realising that he’s missing something, _anything_ , to fill him up. After a few minutes, his breathing slows down to normal and the orgasm subsides. He meets Arthur’s gaze. The word comes out softly, more like a breath than anything else.

“Arthur...”

“Mhm?” Arthur says from where he sits on his knees between Merlin’s thighs. His grin is really bordering on evil now, but Merlin doesn’t have it in him to care anymore.

“You...” he sighs, unable to finish the sentence.

Arthur doesn’t give up that easily. “Yes?” he prompts as he presses his palm to his own erection, which is still hidden under the dress trousers. _He must be dying to get that out_ , Merlin thinks. Arthur’s eyes are fixated on Merlin’s still hard cock and he licks his lips. It might be an unconscious act, but it doesn’t escape Merlin’s attention. Although he’s exhausted and still dying to get off, he can’t help but smile. Arthur must be punishing himself as much as he’s ‘punishing’ Merlin.

“Come,” Merlin says and reaches out a hand for Arthur to come closer. He does as he crawls in between Merlin’s legs and lies down with his chin playfully resting on Merlin’s chest. Merlin’s thumb runs leisurely over his strong jaw and Arthur turns his head slightly and presses his lips to it.

Unable to keep a smirk off his face, he then meets Merlin’s gaze again. The cerulean is gone and the sparkling blue is back. Merlin wants nothing more right now than to kiss that damned smirk off his face, but he can’t quite reach while they’re in this position. Also, the erection he’s been sporting for a _really_ long time is now pressed against Arthur’s stomach and that can’t really be comfortable. Just because he can, however, he shifts his hip just slightly and moans as his cock rubs against Arthur’s clothes.

“You little shit,” Arthur admonishes and starts to draw away. Merlin’s hand stops him, grabs his hair where it has grown a little longer by his neck. He doesn’t pull at it, just holds Arthur still as he pushes up with the other arm to reach Arthur’s lips with his own. The kiss isn’t chaste, exactly, but it’s not dirty either, and it’s not even tainted by the desperation Merlin is feeling right now. It’s somewhere in between and to Merlin, the kiss is pretty much perfect.

Afterwards, he flops down onto the bed again. “You don’t need to punish me anymore. I swear. Please, _please_ , just fuck me already. You want to, I know you do.”

For a second, it looks like Arthur is going to object, but he doesn’t. “I do,” he says instead and slides off the bed.

“What...? Where are you going?”

Arthur just smiles and starts to unbutton his shirt. A relieved laugh escapes Merlin’s lungs as he watches Arthur get undressed and then slide back onto the bed.

“So,” Arthur says, “How do you want to do this?”

“The usual works fine for me. Been feeling a bit empty lately,” Merlin grins.

“I think I should be in control today, _Mer_ lin. So you just keep being a lazy sod and lie there, and I’ll do all the hard work, as usual.”

Merlin frowns at the strange declaration, but doesn’t say anything because that _is_ how they usually do it -– Arthur on top and Merlin being ‘lazy’ at the bottom. It’s how they both like it. When Arthur straddles his hips, Merlin understands what Arthur was talking about. His words get caught in his throat as Arthur takes a huge click of lube and reaches back to stretch himself for Merlin. Merlin can’t stop gawking at how his gorgeous, golden, actually rather _dominating_ boyfriend stretches himself open and the satisfied, completely unguarded look on Arthur’s face makes his cock start leaking again. _Fuck. Fuuuck._

When Arthur slowly sinks down onto him, Merlin grabs his hips and holds him still in an attempt to keep from coming right then and there. Arthur looks down on him, eyes dark with lust, and the smile he gives is bordering on delirious as he slowly raises and lowers himself again and again onto Merlin. It’s delicious and dangerous and _wonderful_ , and Merlin can’t do much other than to try and keep up. He won’t last long, not after the fantastic torture he has been put through tonight, but he’d very much like if he could hold on long enough for Arthur to get some enjoyment from this, too.

The sounds and seemingly random words spilling from Arthur’s mouth don’t make it easy, though. Merlin tries everything to keep from coming -– he tries to think about football (but the memory of Arthur in a footie shirt isn’t really helping his cause), about food (Arthur in a apron is _way_ too hot)... about _Christmas_ for fuck’s sake! It’s the most unsexy holiday of them all, but all Merlin can think of is Arthur under the mistletoe with rosy cheeks and a big smile on his face.

“Arthur, I–-,” Merlin stutters and his hips snap up to meet Arthur when he sinks down on Merlin’s cock again and again. He tries to reach for Arthur’s cock, tries to stroke it to completion, but the rhythm is off and it doesn’t work particularly well.

When he comes a short while later, he does so with a shout that he manages to strangle into a loud groan. His brain seems to have stop working properly, but he thinks he can hear Arthur bark a laugh and the unmistakable noise of him getting himself off. _Fuck_ , he thinks, _I didn’t even_ –- And then Arthur comes, too, spilling onto Merlin’s stomach, clenching around Merlin’s cock, pressing another growling sound from his chest.

Arthur slides off Merlin’s softening cock and lands on his back besides Merlin. “Good?” he asks. Merlin nods, but haven’t caught his breath enough to answer properly. Chuckling, Arthur turns his head and presses a slow kiss to Merlin’s shoulder before resuming his spread-out position on the mattress.

It takes minutes for Merlin’s breathing to calm and his muscles to relax. When they finally do, he turns onto his side and looks at Arthur, searches his face for knowledge that he’s not sure he’ll find.

“You look very serious,” Arthur remarks, smiling slightly.

“Yeah. You said something before... and I–-,” Merlin begins. “I just... I _am_ yours, Arthur. You know that, right?”

Arthur gives him another smile, a bigger one this time, and leans up to affectionately kiss his nose. Merlin needs to make him understand, so he bends down so that his forehead rests against Arthur’s.

“I’m _only_ yours.”

 

 

 


End file.
